


They All Forget

by tigereyes45



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Memory Loss, Multi, Spoilers for c2ep100-103, found family now lost again, magic afflicted illness, tags will change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:40:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25514431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigereyes45/pseuds/tigereyes45
Summary: A collection of pieces about The Mighty Nein losing their memories thanks to Avocado.(Some will be one-shots others might get more than one chapter on them. Ships will be added later!)
Relationships: Artagan & Jester Lavorre
Kudos: 18





	They All Forget

She hadn't forgotten everything. Everyone was overreacting. Were they still on the island? Yes. Were some people losing their memories? Yeah, but like she knows her name. Unlike Vilya. She thought her name was Viri or something! Jester knows her name. It's Jester! She knew what her mother looked like. Could she remember her name? No, not at the moment but that didn't mean she was going to get trapped here.

Jester pouts as she crosses her arms. They were fine. She was fine. The Traveler wouldn't let her get stuck here. If she was in real danger he would save her. He promised.

She falls, cross-legged into the sand. An ache rocks back and forth like a swing in her chest. Maybe, maybe she shouldn't have ran off. This island was creepy. The villagers were weird. Plus their cult wasn't nearly as fun as the one she and the Traveler were making. Heaving, Jester falls back into the sand. The shore feels nice against her blue skin. Grains make way for her head. Hundreds little specks fall between the dark blue strands of her hair. They dance along her skull tickling, itching it as they go.

It was that slowly growing itching sensation that forces Jester to open her eyes again. It was consistent, and continuous. Neverending. Yet so real that if she focuses, Jester was sure she could count them. In her dream, she imagines a clock. An ancient round one with hands made out of long extending beaches. Everytime her eyes would look the hands remained unmoving, yet shifting in place. Always on ten o'clock. As she stepped closer her body floats up. Before she could enjoy it that floating sensation throws her into a body of water above her head she hadn't noticed before. Water floods her vision, but the clock was still there. Silent, unwavering, and still clear. Of course her first instinct was to swim.

Her perfect breastrokes did nothing to propel her closer. Struggling determinedly her arms begin to throb in pain. This wasn't working. Nothing was working. Jester reaches out desperately. Distant voices come and go with the undercurrents around her. A deep voice with a strange accent calls out her name. A quiet woman shouts for her to watch out. High-pitched, and kind of like a child screaming, another tells her to run. They're all washed away as her body is pulled deeper into the water. She calls out for help, but nothing happens. Water doesn't fill her lungs. The currents don't stop pulling her away. The clock doesn't even move. It ticks alongside the ever-shifting sands. Loud, unending, and demanding of her attention. As the water begins to swarm around her, her eyes strain to stay on the clock. There on the hour hand were six tiny people. They look up, watching her. Her heart cries out in pain at the sight of them. Jester gives one last stroke towards the strangers. The ones who felt so warm, yet distant. A word fills her head. Frien-fri, no. Family. Were they her family? 

The dream ends with a jet stream wrapping around her, sucking Jester away. That constant itching of the sands snaps Jester awake. With the speed of a woman who has fallen asleep on a beach too many times, her arm shoots up to protect her eyes. Yet as they open there's nothing to protect them from. The sun was down. Glimpses of the dream come. They hang behind her eyelids for a few brief, precious moments. After which they're gone. Gone. Someone was gone. Who was it? There's a picture of a purple cloak in her mind's eye. It feels wrong. As if she was taking a test and it was the trick answer a man added just to steal a point away. Why he would do that, she has no idea. It makes her angry. Just the thought of someone doing that. Frustration builds up in her. Quivering as she dwells on the thought.

Sitting back up in a huff Jester violently shakes her head. Her fingers comb through her flipping hair, scratching at everything. If anyone saw her they would probably think she was in a frenzy. This little blue tiefling bouncing from one foot to another through the shore's sands. Kicking up just as many grains as the ones she shook loose off of her.

Not that anyone would see her. The only ones who really leave the village are the hunters. Well them and maybe uh.

A comforting sensation fills her head. She was supposed to be remembering something, but how important could it be if she forgot it so easily? Jester straightens out the skirt of her dress. Luckily she had managed to stay dry. The gods must've been looking out for her to keep the change in tide from reaching her body. Maybe they thought her dress was too cute to let the stupid ocean ruin it. Well, they'd be right.

Jester spins on her heels. Stretching her arms up high above her head she searches the jungle's border. Curiosity makes her dwell on how to return to the village for only as long as it took for the thought to form. As if her head was answering itself, a mental image of the path becomes crystal clear. Humming a song she can't remember the name of, Jester sets out. It shouldn't take too long to get back. Maybe an hour. Possibly two if she gets lost again. The hunters may be angry with her for getting lost. There's always a way to get back on their good side. Jester lets her arms falls to her side. With a skip in her step she walks faster. Helping with dinner would probably quell their anger. It might even get her a smile. That was just what she needed to chase away the last of that horrible dream.


End file.
